Untitled, as of now
by Suicidal Tears
Summary: When two people turn up on the Dursley's doorstep with charges of abuse on Dudley and soon on his parents, what'll to happen to Harry? What do you mean, he gets sent to the hosptial!
1. Chapter 1

It was a nice, cloudless day over Number Four Private Drive. But to one boy sitting inside the very house, it seemed like the dark and dreary clouds would never lift for his god father (the only person ever close enough to be a parent to Harry) had died and he believed it to be his entire fault.

More enough to his god father dieing; his aunt and uncle weren't quite what you would call supportive in his time of need. His cousin Dudley had started beating up on the younger children as soon as he go home from Smeltings; Harry had rightfully hidden away so he wouldn't be marked as one of the younger children.

It was roughly three weeks after he had gotten home when he distinctly heard a very loud rapping at the door. He quickly dried his eyes and rid himself of his smelly clothes as quick as possible if it was one of the members of the order checking up on him. Crouching near the door, with his window wide open as an escape (there was a small patch of roof underneath his window), he quietly listened to the conversation going on down below.

"I am here on behalf of one Dudley Dursley and one Harry Potter," said a gruff male voice.

"What has he done this time?" bellowed his Uncle, making himself heard.

"Which one?" asked a different, more feminine voice. Harry quietly opened up his door and crept to the staircase to hear better and get a look at the two people. These two different people were dressed very much alike; so very much alike in uniforms.

"Which one?" his uncle asked. "By! The Potter Boy! What could my son have done?"

The woman pulled out a small notebook and read, "On June sixth, we had a report from several people who wish to remain nameless that a boy by the name of Dudley Dursleyhad beaten up three of their children. When brought in, the three children quickly denied saying such when told that legal action would have to take place. They then changed their story to one Harry Potter beating them up. Upon further investigation, we found out that several other parents also had complaints about Dudley and not Harry Potter."

The male continued. "From one Mrs. Figg, we had a report that when your family went on vacation, you left said Mr. Potter there in not so stable condition where she had to then take care of him. According to her, he looked under fed most of the time and was rather quiet compared to Dudley, whom you wouldn't let near her for some unbeknownst reason."

"For said reasons," continued the female, "we will need to be taking them both down for questioning and, if we find that these charges false, we will return both of the boys to you promptly."

"There are two ways we can do this," interjected the male once more, "you can hand them over to be taken now or we will bring in our reinforcement and physically take them out of your house now. It is your choice."

His uncle stood aghast and his mouth was flopping like that of a fish.

"And one last thing," said the lady, turning two more pages in her notebook, "some group called the Order of the Phoenix, still under investigation, told us that they have not seen Harry Potter for some time and are getting quite worried. If he does not wish to communicate with them, we will not force him to."

"Potter, what the hell did you do to my son?" His uncle finally bellowed. "Get your two damned arses down here this second if you want to live to see tomorrow!"

"Take them," he said more calmly, "but if this turns out to be fake, just watch your back.

The woman scribbled furiously on a piece of paper and she turned and said, "just a moment, sir," and handed him the piece of paper.

"What's this?" he asked,his face turned a livid purple.

She smirked. "For threatening an officer. Now, where may we find these two?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Harry Potter, I presume?" asked the lady, following his uncle's finger, whichpointed up the stairs.

"I didn't do anything!" he said, and started to turn away.

"We believe you, Harry, but we still need to follow the lead from Mrs. Figg. If they did anything to you, you won't have to come back here."

"Don't come back here and then he'll kill me!" Harry said, franticly.

"Who?" asked the man, shortly following the woman.

Harry's eyes opened wide , noticing what he had done, and made a mad dash for his room.

The man was on his tail as soon as he darted and the woman was busy radioing backup.

"You come back here, you hoodlum!" shrieked the man.

"Honestly, Jonathan, you can at least be kind!"

"Will you shut up already and chase after the fat one who just hid in the room behind the far door? The damned skinny one just jumped out the window and the fat one pushed me down!" he said as Emma helped him up.

"Oh, honestly, you get the fat one yourself, fatso! There's no way you'd last chasing the skinny one down!"

"I'll have you for this, Emma, mark my word!" he said as she turned the corner. Before her hand disappeared down the hallway, she showed him the tape recorder still recording. She left, followed by a string of curse words. She got to the window Jonathan has pointed at in just enough time to see the kid being tripped by Steven, one of the backups.

"Don't hurt the kid, Steven! He hasn't done anything!" she yelled down below as she watched the struggle. Calmly, she lowered herself to the patch of roof and looked down, startled.

"Yet! How in hells name," said Steven to Harry as Emma lowered herself carefully to the ground, "could you possibly jump down from that distance and not hurt yourself?"

"Will you-" Harry struggled, "- let me go! It's none of your buisness. I haven't done anything to you!" Harry kicked him in the chest and he flew backward.

"Now you have," he said, and re-tackled Harry to the ground.

"Need help?" Emma asked as she approached. Steven finally had Harry pinned and was sitting on him.

"Nope, got it under control," he said, out of breath.

"Will you get off me, you idiot!" screamed Harry, pounding his small fists at the older mans side, "I can't breathe!"

"Bull, kid, pure bull!"

"You're gonna hurt me!" he gasped. "Tonks!" he tried to yell. "Tonks! God damn it, you're gonna get me in trouble if they see you! Now get the hell off of me so I can breathe! Please!"

They both looked down at him and each raised an eyebrow.

"Please!" he gasped, "I just want to breathe! God damn you, get off me!"

By now, his face was turning an off shade of color.

"Steven," said Emma, "I really think you should get off him now."

He got off and Harry sat up and started coughing up some blood and fell back, panting. It stung.

"Kid, are you all right?" he asked, suddenly frantic.

"God, does it look like I'm all right?" he asked, coughing a bit more blood. "God damn you people, all you have to do is ask nicely, not start chasing us like we're some damned criminals on the loose!"

"Watch your tongue, kid, I could get you for that, you know," said Steven.

"Yeah, well I could get you for almost killing me!" He turned to Emma and said, "Hand over the tape."

"But- what! I can't do that," she said.

"Then let me go! I didn't do anything!" Each grabbed Harry's arms. He started to struggle, but they held their grasps firm.

"Tonks! Where the hell are you?" Harry screamed. Alas, no Tonks came.

Harry quit struggling and they dragged him off to the police car, limp as limp can be.


	3. Chapter 3

And there Harry sat, in a small square room with a round table and a desk with a computer on it. There were four chairs around the table and one in front of the computer. Harry was seated in the farthest corner, next to a window. Then someone placed a box in front of him. He looked up at Emma.

"I need you to eat something," she said, and sat down next to him, "someone's going to come in soon and ask you some questions. I'll just say it'll be much easier if you just cooperate; answer all their questions."

Harry sighed and opened the little box as Emma went to answer a knock on the door.

"On second thought," she said, snatching the sandwich away from Harry, which earned her a yelp, "they need you checked first, I guess, and you shouldn't eat anything-" she said as he made a lunge for the sandwich again, "- until they're done!"

She just led Harry out of the room and to the door on the left.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked as a doctor entered the room.

"Oh no you don't!" shrieked Harry, as Emma tried to make a move toward the door, "out of all the people I've met in my life, you're the only person who's given off such a good impression and is as easy to trust as you are. Don't think of doing that again."

The two stood, shocked. "Well, that's good, I guess," said the Doctor; "we need you to trust as many people as possible. Now, I repeat, what's wrong?"

He had to hold back the urge to scream at them. "You can all tell I'm malnourished, yet you don't let me eat anything! I've admitted it, is that what you want? I know that they don't give me food, just let me eat something!"

"May I go get your box?" asked Emma.

Harry folded his arms in an uncharacteristic form of himself, and said snotily but with great worry at the same time, "will you be back?"

"Yes, Harry," she said a disappeared around the corner and was back within five second. He snatched the box and muttered a very quiet and embarrassed thank you to Emma.

"Don't just watch me eat," he said after some time, "ask me questions. I can do more than two things at once, you know."

"Alright," said the Doctor at once and took a clipboard off of the desk next to her. Harry took a quick glance around the room and noted that it was a doctors office.

"What? Why am I in here?" he asked, shocked.

"Well, we need to give you a physical and check over your body to make sure you still function in the normal Muggle way." Harry almost let that slip past him. Almost.

"Hold up!" he practically shouted and started to move across the room from the doctor, "second to last word you said, and pray to god that you actually know what that word means!"

"Normal?" asked Emma.

"Oh, god! Stop playing dumb with me. Who the hell are you and what do you want with me?"

"Well," said the Doctor, "I'm Doctor Gloria Stonewell, and have been informed of the magical world as if someone in your case would show up here. We've had quite a few of your kind in here, believe it or not."

"Did you say magical?" asked Emma, confused.

"_This,_"said Doctor Stonewell, "is why Emma was asked to leave the room. You wouldn't happen to be seventeen, would you?"

"Do I look it?" Harry asked, irritated. "And if you want me to cooperate, she stays. And knows. And- Hold the hell up. Show me your left arm," he directed at the doctor.

She sighed a content sigh. "I was wondering how long it would take you to realize that you could have been captured by the bad," she said, rolling up her sleeve, "but alas," and Harry saw no dark mark, "I am good and shall not be handing you over to your feared dark wizard. But you have not asked about Emma."

"I told you, I just have a good feeling about her," he mumbled, "but I guess your right. Roll up your sleeve, too, Emma, and then we can explain more to you-"

"-at a later time, indeed," interjected Doctor Stonewall, "but please, do as he wishes, for it shall only up where you sit at the table of trust with him."

By now, Emma was completely lost, but rolled her sleeve up anyways. Harry seemed pleased, along with his new Doctor and she continued on with his physical and shortly after someone came by and took him back to the other room for questioning and mention his name was Norm Tonks; yes, in relation to Tonks and no, he could not tell Tonks he was here, and yes he was a wizard and, I quote, "would be the day I burn in hell if I'd become a supporter of You-Know-Who," and showed Harry his arm.

Harry hissed Voldemort, and Emma sat, shocked out of her mind and not paying attention until Jonathan shoved a cup of steaming hot coffee into her hands.

**AN: Any ideas as what to call the story? Thanks for your input!**


	4. Chapter 4

**BTW: Actually, I haven't decided if this is after 5th year or 6th year… don't know if I'm going to follow HBP if it's 5th.**

"Hi, my names Bryant," said a boy with wild brown hair with the wave of his hand, "drug rehab and anger management."

The girl next to him smiled. "Gisella. I'm here for Anorexia and depression."

The girl next to her didn't look up, but nodded. "Sasha; bi-polar disorder, anger management, and am also here to help with my anxiety attacks. Nothing to be afraid of," she said, handing Harry a piece of paper, "welcome."

"Yeah," said Bryant, "it's not as bad as they all make it sound. Can be quite boring on the weekends, though. And don't worry about that," he motioned toward the piece of paper, "we all got one."

"Noel," said the last girl, with black hair and dark red highlights, "Depression, suicide watch, self mutilation, anorexia-bulimia, anger management, and I think that's it.

"Anxiety," added Sasha.

"She doesn't have bulimia," said Gisella, "but the doctors like to call it that, because she makes herself throw up… or, she used to."

"Didn't know that had a name," mumbled Harry.

"It doesn't, not quite," said Bryant, "bulimia is binge eating and then throwing up."

"So, who are you and what are you here for?" asked Noel.

"Uhm, my Name's Harry and I really don't know what I'm here for," he said, honestly.

"Mind me," said Bryant, and looked at the bracelet Harry was wearing. "Am, An, Ax, Mdd, Sm, Sw, Tu, and W. I've heard of all of them except W."

"Yay! Another me!" said Noel with excitement.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

"Am is anger management," the four choursed, "An is anorexia, Ax is Anxiety, Mdd is Major Depressive Disorder, Sm is self mutilation, Sw is suicide watch, and Tu is throw-up."

"Computer was messed up, calm down," said a lady in a white get-up. Here's your new one," she said, and left.

"What changed?" asked Gisella.

"Am, an, ax, mdd, ra, sm, and sw," Harry said. "I'll admit to the anger management," he said, going through each one, one at a time, "I am not anorexic, I have no clue what anxiety is, I am _not _depressed, and what the hell is ra?"

Sasha shrugged. "Dunno. Never had one of those before. And you know, you skipped the last two. Are you or are you not a self mutilator and suicidal?"

Harry did not answer but crossed his arms. "I want to know what ra is," he said, and walked out of the door.

"So, what do you say?" asked Bryant.

"Quiet," said Gisella.

"Shy," said Sasha.

"I know him, I think," said Noel, as she twisted her hospital bracelet. It became a nervous habit to many.

"How?" Asked Bryant.

"I- I don't know." She paused. "I'm hungry."

Gisella laughed.

"No, really, I am!" she protested. "Who should be laughing, Gis? At least I haven't lost three pounds since last Monday's weigh in!"

"Shut up!" she hissed. "At least I haven't gained five and a half pounds since last Monday's weigh in!"

"Yell that as loud as you want! That means only four more pounds till PHP! And fifteen til my release!" and she stormed off out the door.

"My name is Donna. And yes, all the question you've answered lead to Mdd and Anorexia. And where do you explain the scars from on your body if you aren't suicidal or a self mutilator?"

Harry scowled. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," she said.

"Voldemort."

"What a silly name," she said and caught Harry smirking.

"Don't let him hear you saying that," he said and raised an eyebrow. Donna felt a strange sensation for a split second before it left and Harry said, "I like you. What's ra, though?"

She sighed. "Relative abuse, Harry. We had to put that down."

"Harry Potter?" thought Noel, as she went to get her tray. "Not Harry _Potter?_"

"Donna? Can we eat?" she asked, pretending she didn't hear a thing that just went on.

She raised her eyebrows and said, "sure, sweetie. Today, Harry, you'll just have a sandwich and soda and pretzels, but other than that, you normally can choose… as long as there's food on your list, we'll let you eat what you want; we just give you a fattening desert. Like today, you have a chocolate chip cookie."

"Bleck," said Noel, "I have vanilla ice cream." She eyed Harry's cookie. "Trade ya?"

"Sure, why not?" he asked, "We can, can't we?"

"That'd be ok by us," said Donna and went into the adolescent lounge.


	5. Chapter 5

"So," said Bryant, "how long are you here for?"

"I have no clue," said Harry as he threw off his shirt to put on a different shirt to sleep in. He had gotten some second-hand clothes from the hospital that fit better than the Dursley's ever fit.

Bryant gasped. "That's a pretty nasty scar you've got there." He paused. "I believe you."

"What?" asked Harry.

"I believe you. How could you have caused that scar on your back? The one on your foreheads pretty neat, but looks a little red. If it's been bothering you, you should tell Donna or Michelle. They could fix it for you."

"Can't," said Harry, climbing into bed, "I've had it since I was one. Don't remember how I got it. Parents died then, too."

The two laid in silence for a few minutes before Bryant asked, "so, what are you really here for?"

"What?"

"No, what are you here for? I meant what I asked."

Harry sighed and rolled over.

"When my parents were murdered, my aunt and uncle took me in. My cousin is severely over-weight and has an after school hobby of beating up other kids. I'm his punching bag; my uncle's, too. I'm so small because my aunt and uncle starve me. I'll admit to the depression," he said, as much as it hurt him, "because last month I watched my godfather get murdered right before my very eyes. He was the last link to my parents; the last living person who cared about me; and he had to be murdered."

Harry laughed. "Once, I went shopping for my aunt and I saw this boy with a shirt that said, "It's a dog eat dog world out there and I'm wearing milk bone underwear." I think he was a tourist; probably from America." Harry laughed sardonically. "What I would pay to see Tom's face if I called him a dog."

"Who's Tom?"

Donna showed up at the door to scold the two boys for talking after eleven.

"The person who killed my parents; Cedric, this boy at my school; Bertha, a lady with a memory problem; my godfather, Sirius, and a bunch of innocent mug- err, people who never did anything to deserve it."

"What were you going to say?" asked Bryant.

"Huh?"

"Mug- err," he repeated.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Harry said, haughtily, "good night."

"And what do you want, Donna?" he added into his pillow but she was long gone.

"Ah, bloody hell," he murmured, and got comfy for what was going to be another long, quiet, insomniac night.


	6. Chapter 6

"And this is the group therapy room," said Michelle to Harry, showing him in after the rest of the kids, "where we have one of our various forms of group therapy, hence the name, along with breakfast, lunch, study hall, goals and reflections, and any assignments that may be given." She handed him a chart.

"It looks pretty busy," she admitted, "but it's rare that therapy groups last the entire hour. We normally try to give you at least five minutes to get to where you need to be and more if it's lunch. Things for the ED's are not mandatory if you are not an ED, nor are any of the PHP blocks."

"What's EDP and PHP?" asked Harry.

"EDP is Eating Disorder Patients and PHP is Partial Hospital Patient. As you are neither, you needn't worry," she said.

Harry huffed. "All I did was ask."

"And all I did was tell. Curiosity killed the cat."

He rolled his eyes and said, "I sure hope they punished Curiosity for killing the cat. And anyways," he said, noting that the entire table was snickering except for Sasha who was busy coloring, "that's impossible. Curiosity is a characteristic, not a person."

"Nothing is impossible, Mr. Potter," she said, turning red.

"Well, then you've obviously never tried to slam a revolving door, have you? How about nailing jello to a tree?"

"So, I see we have a person who likes to contradict on our hands, now don't we?"

"If you want to call it that," he said, and took his tray offered by Bryant. "And I prefer to be called Harry."

"Some things, you just can't have a stay in, now do you, Mr. Potter?"

He shrugged, "I think I should have a say in what make me uncomfortable."

She laughed. "What can possibly make you uncomfortable about someone calling you by your last name?"

He swallowed his bite of cereal and ticked off a few names, "Well, just to name a few people, Draco Malfoy is an enemy that calls me by it, Snape my- erm- chemistry teacher calls me that just because I remind him of my father that he loathes, and my archest of all rivals, Tom Marvolo Riddle, calls me that every time I see him, which happens to be once a year when he tries to-!" He cut short. By the end, he was standing up in rage.

"Excuse me," he said, and left the room where ten seconds later everyone could hear him screaming bloody murder. Then they hear a door being kicked open and glass being broke before everything fell silent. Everyone looked around in stunned silence before seeing him escorted down the hall to the psychiatrist's office.

Ten minutes later heard him kicking in another door follow by someone new saying, "I don't care that you get your anger out, I'm actually happy at that, but I am afraid to say that you'll need to pay for the two doors you just ruined. That's at least 250 pound, Harry."

He held up one finger. "Excuse me for just a moment," he said and re-appeared to ask Noel, "about how much is 000 pounds in… G's, Noel?"

She looked around, "how did… how did you know?" He held up his hospital bracelet, winked, and simply said, "W."

She grinned and said, "well, one G is about… 2.70340 pounds…" and the looked around. "Does anybody have a calculator?"

Gisella looked confused but handed over her calculator…

"Since one G is about… 2.70340 pounds… we multiply that by the cost of the doors," she said, and typed in both numbers but Harry made her replace the 250 by 300, just to be safe. Harry shook his head no. "That can't be right. Too much money."

Donna came in confused and asked what they were trying to do.

"Harry kind of broke two doors today," Noel tried to explain, "and Dr. Pateul said that he had to replace them both at about 250 pounds, but he wants to make it 300 just to be safe."

"And why is that confusing? Why do you need a calculator?"

"Well," she tried, "we don't… we don't have the same kind of money that you have, so we need to see how many G's it'll cost him."

"What are G's?" she tried.

Harry shook his head. "Can't tell you."

She tried to push it away and said, "one pound is 2.71549 G's… or is one G 2.71549 pounds?"

"One G is 2.71549 pounds," said Noel.

"So, if one G is about that much, you just divide that into 300 and you should get your total."

Whatever they did, they didn't get the same answer twice. Harry finally decided that he would ask Norm to take out 100 G's (aka Galleons) out of his vault whenever he could next and transfer that to muggle money for him and if that wasn't enough, he would have him get more...

**AN: Ok, that's it for now… and I have no clue what I did to get what I got… at first, I had 87 galleons, then I had 174… then 187 and then 110… so, if anyone would mind telling me how to get about 200 dollars in US money into pounds… and then back into galleons, it would be highly appreciated. **


End file.
